


Don't turn away, I want you to stay

by Stes



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/F, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-31
Updated: 2017-12-31
Packaged: 2019-02-25 18:05:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,069
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13218072
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stes/pseuds/Stes
Summary: River had often dreamed of escaping the library, but never like this. She’d imagined passionate reunions and daring adventures, not… stranded on Earth out of time, with a new face and three thousand-or-so odd years of new baggage on her shoulders.So what’s a girl to do where the only feasible way out is with a husband who she’d much rather forget, (and who seems to have already forgotten her)?Why, run, of course.A decently-long fic where River escapes the Library… after three thousand and three years. Library Fix-It.Prepare for some juicy River, Jack & Me adventures, River unknowingly falling in love with the (fobwatched) Thirteenth doctor, possible cameos by Eleven, River becoming besties with both Clara and Bill (separately), sligh- okay, not so slight, canon divergence, River hanging out with post-Manhattan parents, the Twelfth Doctor, River regenerating ‘cause that’s a thing, exploring some emotional issues, a lil’ melodrama, and River and the Doctor finally getting a happy ending and a nice, healthy relationship (eventually).





	Don't turn away, I want you to stay

**Author's Note:**

> Hello!  
> I've been writing this for a while and have finally decided to publish it. Just a note, however, this hasn't been beta'd, and I'm not entirely sure I want it to be. Also, this is my first work so, please, have patience. 
> 
> Kudos and comments (good or bad, I'll take them all) are, as always, appreciated. ^^
> 
> Chapter title is from 'Crash' by Eden. Honestly, if you haven't listened to EDEN yet, what are you doing? 
> 
> P.S: Happy New Years!

Time.

In the data core, time had either passed in a blur or not at all. The longer she stayed in here, the longer it seemed to elude her. It could’ve been minutes or years, for all she knew. Charlotte refused to tell her, despite the fact that she obviously knew. That refusal led to her to believe that it had been a very, very long time. The only evidence of the passing of time she had observed was that fateful day. Yet she couldn’t even begin to tell how long ago it was.

Trenzalore.

It was the day the Doctor had bade his goodbyes. She remembered it clearly, the memory, despite how well-worn it was, was crystal clear. She remembered that, despite the fact she damn well knew the Doctor hated goodbyes, she had asked for one anyway. Basically begged, if she remembered correctly. Something she was gradually growing more and more unsure of. She needed closure. A last gift. He told her that he didn’t know how - she remembered that bit clearly. She responded, her heart sinking in her chest, that he should say it like he was coming back. But she knew, as she tasted the scent of pine needles and apples (something that was distinctly Doctor), mixed with hints of melancholy and sorrow, that she knew he wouldn’t. He hated endings, and she liked to think she was his biggest one yet. She remembered desperately trying to keep it together, to _hide the damage_ , as he would have wanted. And he, as she would have wanted, did his best to fulfill her wishes. A mere “See you around, Professor River Song.” later, and he was gone - whisked away in a spiral of eternity and memories best forgotten. She was gone too. Scattered back into lines of code and memories long forgotten, ironically. The irony of their last meeting was not lost on her. He left, as always, and she was left alone, imprisoned as always. A canary in its gilded cage.

Sure, she could read all the books that were ever written. And yeah, Charlotte let her experience the most wonderful adventures. From saving damsels to fighting dragons, she had done them all. Yet, they failed to compare to a real adventure. The wind on her face, breezing through her hair, and the way she ran. Oh, how she ran. But as the years faded into more, the sheer monotony that bled into her day-to-day life almost ruined her. She contemplated it, of course. Asking Charlotte to put her back in her body, something that they had managed to preserve, and just let nature take its course. But that seemed a bit too much like a cowardly way of escaping the waiting. And River Song was no coward.

In fact, after that day, she had devoted the rest of her near-immortal life into pouring through all the texts that even contained a mere whisper of the Time Lords. Really, it was business as usual. She was surprised, however. For a library so big and so old, there were hardly any mentions of the Time Lords. Although, she couldn’t say it wasn’t expected, what with their penchant for secrecy and all. Despite this, she managed to carve out a little research room for herself. With walls covered in vast diagrams of Time Lord biology and rainbow-dipped handwritten notes covering the walls, she had never felt more at home. As the years, once again, faded into more, she found herself questioning why exactly she was doing this. She had determined to forget him, as the alternative was far too hard to bear. The coward’s way out, yes. Otherwise, the constant waiting would have destroyed her. After all, she knew he was never coming back. She was so, so tired. Tired of living imprisoned, and, most definitely, tired of waiting for a man who would never come. Perhaps, she often mused to herself, she merely wanted a plan - a way to approach her potential death without feeling an unruly mix of utter hopelessness and resignation. And finally, she had found one.

“Charlotte,” she called out, happiness infecting her voice. “I’ve finally found something,” she grinned, holding up the vast wad of notes in front of her. “Really?” the girl questioned, suspiciously peering at the notes. “Well, I wouldn’t go ahead and bring false hope, now would I?” Charlotte let out a grudging sound of affirmation, causing a wide grin to split River’s face. “Mm, so, according to this,” she stated, pointing to a handcrafted chart of all she could scrounge up regarding Time Lord biology, “Time Lords have this, well, lock-type thing embedded in their DNA. It’s basically a system that produces naturally-occurring regeneration energy. When a Time Lord is born, the lock opens and grants the child enough energy for thirteen regenerations. Now, the energy that is stored _inside_ this lock is constantly regenerating, if you excuse the pun,” she paused, chuckling to herself. Charlotte merely raised an eyebrow in response, unimpressed. River awkwardly cleared her throat before continuing. “In fact, it seems that the Time Lords have developed a way to use very, very sophisticated Gallifreyan technology to permanently open that lock. This is how they grant individuals more regenerations, I believe. So!” she grinned. “We can just scan my body and try to locate this lock. Once we find it,” she grins triumphantly, “we brute force our way in and **bam!** ” she punctured the last word with an explosive hand gesture. “We’re in.”

Charlotte's face fell as she recognised the glaringly obvious problem, “But you’re not a Time Lord.” River shrugged in response. “I know.” Charlotte narrowed her eyes and peered into River’s eyes as if looking for something. Whatever she was looking for, she must’ve found it as she simply sighed and bit her lip. “You do realise,” she drew out slowly, “That you have less than a 1% chance of success, yes?” River nodded in response and shrugged. “Perhaps it’s time,” she shrugged, giving off an air of resignation. “Although I don’t know how long I’ve been here,” she gestured around them, “I’m smart enough to know that it’s been a very, very long time. Why else wouldn’t you tell me?” Charlotte opened her mouth, as if to protest, but River held up a hand. Her mouth closed. “Don’t. I understand your reasons,” she said, a hint of bitterness inflecting her voice. Shock rippled through the girl’s features. “Yeah?” she questioned. River laughed in response, a real laugh. “Dear, I’m not _that_ unreasonable.” Charlotte nodded and opened her mouth in response, but it shut it as River continued speaking. “Although, I do expect you to tell me eventually. If this works, of course. Charlotte’s face fell, causing River to laugh once again. “Mind the _that_.”

* * *

 

“Well,” she cleared her throat, “I’ve never really been one for speeches, so…” she looked around at the expectant faces, “I won’t make one!” She grinned as their faces fell. Man, she was going to miss this. “It’s been nice. I’ll miss you all. It’s been a really great time” she offered, glancing over at Charlotte, Dr. Moon and her team. “Although it would be nice if I knew how long,” she hinted, eyeing Charlotte as indecision wreaked havoc across her face. “You did promise.” Charlotte sighed in response. “Three thousand and three years,” she whispered, the number so outrageous that River was sure she’d misheard. “I’m sorry, what?” she blurted out, alarmed. “Three thousand and three years,” Charlotte repeated, her face reminiscent of something resembling pity, an emotion River detested. Her hands briefly trembled as the realisation that she had been waiting here for _three thousand goddamn years_ shot through her. She stifled the rising sense of panic and forcefully stilled her hands. “Well,” she grinned, plastering a smile on her face, “At least I’m looking damn good for my age.” Charlotte stifled a giggle, causing River’s smile to turn slightly more genuine. _‘At least what could possibly be her last memories of me won't be clouded in sadness,’_ River thought to herself, attempting to cheer herself up.

“Anyway, we’ve wasted enough time dawdling, so, I guess this is it,” she expressed, causing Charlotte’s smile to freeze on her face. “Come here,” River offered, drawing the young girl in for a hug. She gave what she hoped was a reassuring smile. “I’ll be fine,” she said. She crouched down to reach Charlotte’s eyes, angling her face so they were looking into each other’s eyes. “And if, by any chance, I’m not, I want you to know it wasn’t your fault. I chose this. I still choose it.” She allowed the girl to wipe her tears on her hair. It was the least she could do, after all. She stroked Charlotte’s hair and sighed. “You and I both know that there was never a place for me here. I could never open enough room in my heart to let anyone in,” she admitted bitterly. “Except for you, my dear, dear Charlotte.” Tears threatened to fall as she pressed her closer to her chest. “Promise me you’ll take care of yourself, yeah?” Charlotte nodded in response, and River graced her forehead with a gentle, fleeting kiss. “I’m ready. Doctor Moon, if you please.” He peered at her for a good long moment before nodding. Then, suddenly, the dreadful sensation of being ripped apart sprouted without her. She inhaled sharply. _'I_ t’s do _or die,’_ she thought as the very essence of her being disintegrated and fell into her waiting body.

And, all she can sense is darkness. _Nothing._ But then, suddenly she’s breathing again. Really breathing. And her heartbeats are echoing resoundingly loud in her ears. A sense of euphoria rises within her. She didn’t realise how much she craved that essential sound until it was gone. She wanted to laugh in response, but soon realised she couldn’t move. _‘Of_ course _you can’t move,’_ she chided herself, _‘It hasn’t even begun yet.'_  And then suddenly there’s _pain_ , and she guesses it’s started. The pain is all-consuming, far worse than anything she felt while trapped in the data core. She desperately searches her body for the cause of this pain, before realises, with dawning horror, that she’s left it too long. Far, far too long. And for an awful moment, she thinks she’s going to die. In a library. In the _same_ library. Again. And that these clarity-touched moments were really her last. The universe’s sadistic way of making sure she savours her own pain-filled ones as repayment for all those she stole. And then the screaming starts. Terrible, heart-wrenching screaming. And she wishes she could move so she could dismember whoever was making that atrocious noise himself. A sense of morbid joy overcomes her as she realises that it’s her. She’s screaming. Those are her screams. And she can’t stop.

And then there’s regeneration energy everywhere. Touching her limbs, her hair, forging everything anew. And she almost cries. Because for a terrible, horrible moment she thought that it wasn’t working. But she’s still breathing. And screaming. She really can’t get past the screaming. But the pitch of her voice is getting higher - more frantic. And she could almost kick herself for showing her weakness. Until she realises that she’s not. Her voice is changing. She’s changing - really changing. And she manages a weak grin at that. Because, despite what she said, she really, really didn’t want to die. And the screaming stops, and she almost converts to a religion, before more pain than she has ever felt before hits her and her face changes. And the screaming starts again. Louder. Never-ending. As if it had been going on for years. And then it stops. Finally, really stops. And it hasn’t been years, it’s been days. But it’s okay now. Because it worked. She’s alive. She’s breathing. And she’s _different_. She lets out a laugh before suddenly the world starts fading out around the edges, and she promptly passes out.

As she came to, her eyes automatically flicked to the image of Charlotte projected onto the monitor. “Well,” River smirked, holding her hands out in front of her, “It seems to have worked,” she offered with a shrug. She turns her palms over, because these don’t look like her hands. They’re _not_ her hands. Except they _are_. “How do I look?” she asked, posing ridiculously. Charlotte’s face didn’t move. “You had us all worried to death and this is how you act!?” she seethed, her eyes narrowing. River stilled and met her eyes. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, “I’m not entirely sure how else to react. It’s all new, you see.” Some of the anger faded out of Charlotte’s features, however, she still let out a loud sound of displeasure. “Well, don’t do it again,” she sulked. River laughed, her first real laugh in a while, “I’ll try not to, dear. But I’m fine now. See,” she held her arms out for inspection. Seeing Charlotte’s face had yet to break, she continued. “I’m alive,” she stressed. Charlotte finally grinned in response. “That you are, River,” the girl beamed. “Would you like to see what you look like?” River swallowed nervously, before smirking and sauntering up to the screen. “Of course.” She hesitated as her fingers were about to touch the screen before pressing down deliberately. “Three thousand years, huh?” she muttered, more to herself than anything.

The screen flickered and suddenly an unfamiliar face filled the screen. Frankly, the face was _beautiful_. River stared at her. She stared back. River touched her hair, (and really, what were the odds of having curls three times in a row) and so did she. She let out a delighted laugh. The girl’s hair - or, well, _her’s_ , was a magical cloud of wild, untamable crimson curls that seemed to have been long-since licked by firelight. Her eyes were a churning mixture of colours, flickering between green and a grey-blue. The green could be likened to the churning, passionate colour the sea turns after a storm. And the grey-blue to the storm itself: swirls of glittering greyish tornadoes sunken into a sea of flickering azure blue. Her skin was a white, creamy colour. Even in the dark, she wagered, she would still stick out like a shining beacon. She cautiously touched her face, her skin reminding her of whipped milk and pillowy clouds. She sighed as she examined her face. She looked like Amy, she thought with a wince. Her hair was a touch too red, and the curls. Well, she could’ve managed without them, truthfully. The bridge of her nose was a touch too wide; a touch too straight. Her eyes a tad too bright, a little less rounded. And her skin a tad too white, a little less “weathered adventurer” and more a “shut-in academic”.

She continued examining her new face and sighed. “You know, it horrifies me to admit this, but I’m almost glad he can’t see me now,” she admitted, tracing the outline of an unfamiliar nose. Charlotte tilted her head in silent confusion. “Because,” she met Charlotte’s eyes, letting her see the pain and the sheer _brokenness_ that she usually kept hidden, “I’m not who I once was.” She paused. “Well, I mean obviously,” she gestured to her new face, “I mean mentally. The woman the Doctor once loved was three thousand years younger, and I’m-” she paused her rambling as she took in Charlotte’s knowing smile. A small tentative smile crept across her face in response. “I don’t even think I’m River Song anymore. She died a long time ago, Charlotte. In a library.” She winced as she realised she was unconsciously mimicking the Doctor. She shrugged as Charlotte glanced at her in concern. “Truthfully, I don’t even think I’ll tell him I’m back.” The concern in Charlotte's features grew prominent at this admission. “Why?” she asked cautiously. River let out a sad little laugh and gestured at herself. “This,” she explained, “is all consequences. And we both know the Doctor doesn’t _do_ consequences. He’s a runner, that one. He never looks back.” Charlotte opened her mouth, as if to protest, but soon shut it. His nature was well-known to the both of them.

“Well,” River began, clapping her hands together in a poor attempt to relieve the heavy atmosphere. “New face, new me, and all of time and space waiting. I think it’s about time to explore it, don’t you?” Charlotte frowned as she scanned River’s vortex manipulator. “I’m sure you know that you only have enough left in that thing for one trip. And even then, the timing will be iffy. Hell, you could even land at the dawn of time if you’re unlucky enough.” River nodded, squeezing out a small, “I know.” Charlotte raised an eyebrow. “So where will you go?” she asked. River sighed. “Where else can I go? To the Doctor’s side. One last time.”

Charlotte's eyes narrowed. “It’s not a good idea,” she announced. River shrugged. “The odds of going anywhere else and meeting another time traveller are far too slim for comfort. Besides…” she trailed off, causing Charlotte to motion for her to continue. “It’s nothing. It’s just… perhaps my judgment is slightly clouded by my nostalgia,” she admitted, her eyes lowering. “So you still love him?” Charlotte questioned. River raised her head and met Charlotte’s eyes. She hesitated before nodding. “Always and forever,” she whispered, the confession seeming to weigh down the air itself. “It’s fine though,” she began, plastering a smile on her face, “I’ve long since realised he’s moved on,” she admitted, her mind flicking to all the times she saw him pine after Clara. I guess it’s time for me to do the same.” Unshed tears glistened at the corner of her eyes before she forcefully shook them away.

“I’ll come visit,” she promised, eyes full of sincerity. “I’m not sure when, but I’ll definitely come.” Charlotte grinned in what seemed to be relief. “I'll be seeing you, then,” she replied. River nodded, forcefully squashing down the anxiety that was threatening to explode. “I guess it’s time then,” she said, suspiciously eyeing the vortex manipulator that was strapped to her decidedly different wrist. “Time for one last run,” she breathed before slamming her finger down the on teleport button, as if sparing a moment would cause her to change her mind.

And with that, her world dissolved into light.


End file.
